


Sweet Bitter Love

by soshadylately



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Beaches, Best Friends, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Recovery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:44:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soshadylately/pseuds/soshadylately
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you lose the only one you have ever loved...forever? Alone and broken on a sunny beach, is the help of a kind stranger enough to heal Tommy's heart? <br/>“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”<br/>Oneshot. Slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Bitter Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: MILD SPOILER ALERT This story has only one mention of Sauli and it may put him in a kind of bad light, but trust that I have nothing against him nor am I a Adommy cray (I know some people are still sensitive about the matter of Saulbert break up). When I wrote this, all I had was a plot bunny and Sauli seemed like a suitable person to use for that particular character.
> 
> Enjoy!

It is too easy to remember him here, that gorgeous smile that lit up his eyes from within as he laughed, the way he ran along the shore, kicking up sand in his wake. The way he shone with life, so vibrant and real and beautiful. If I looked out of the corner of my eye and squinted into the evening sun, I could just imagine he was here with me, the sun lighting his brown-streaked hair in a halo, all his beautiful freckles exposed for me to see. And suddenly my chest is far too tight, my breath speeding up into pained gasps, and all I want is for him to be here again, beside me.

The waves roll gently against the shore, and two kids run along the sand, splashing through the water and shouting joyously. I curl up against myself, clutching my hands against my chest, as though in doing so I can protect myself from the sharp pain lancing through me, ripping my heart to shreds. He is here in everything I see, his breath is the wind ruffling through my hair, his laugh in the gentle rumble of the waves. Everything reminds me of him, every drop of water and every warm grain of sand, and I feel myself breaking again, my eyes burning, tears blurring my vision and drawing tracks down my cheeks.

“Are you alright?”

I look up and see a old granny, stooped over her cane, her hair wispy and white, her kind blue eyes peering at me over her glasses reminding me too much of him. Her words are a life raft, her concern a beacon of light.

I clutch desperately at it, trying to right myself in the tumultuous mess in my mind. 

“I miss my friend.” 

My heart aches, the simplicity of that statement not enough to sum up just how much I’m burning to see him and touch him again, to hear his deep laugh, to have his grin light up my world. That word stings and burns. Friend. Because that was all I could be, not a boyfriend, or a lover, but I should have been satisfied, because now I have nothing. She nods solemnly, her gaze so understanding it’s painful.

“Was he a good friend?” 

“The very best. He was honest and sweet and kind, and he always thought of others before himself. He was selfless and funny and beautiful. The times I had with him were always the best.” And I loved him, I silently add.

She rested her hand on my back, her touch an anchor out of the darkness. I didn’t know her, but her comfort after the months of loneliness were too much, and I could feel myself finally splitting apart, crumbling from the inside. I couldn’t hold on to my façade anymore, and I broke, sobs heaving my chest as I leaned against her shoulder. She held me as I cried, and the warmth of a stranger against me was too much, too much for my battered heart to bear, and my walls started crashing in, and suddenly my brain was acute with pain, the memories of my best friend, my light and the only man I had ever loved was too hard to keep out.

I could not keep out the ache of desire I’d felt for my best friend since I was 16, despite knowing how very wrong it was. I could not keep out the ache I’d felt when I saw him dating other boys, and the searing pain when he returned from a trip to Finland told me that he’d found the one, that he was in love. Couldn’t help but remember how I’d buried all my feelings for him, tried my utter best to hide how much seeing him in love with someone else hurt, tried to be happy for him. And finally, the horror when I had gone to his house one sunny afternoon, only to find him curled up against the wall, sobbing and keening. How I had spent days by his side, begging him to eat, to talk to me, to just do something, only to finally learn that his boyfriend, Sauli, had broken up with him. I couldn’t forget the way I saw him retreat further and further away from me, into the darkness of his own mind, becoming a mere shell of the person he had been. I couldn’t forget night after sleepless night where he would wake up screaming, sobs wracking his frame for hours. Couldn’t forget how I had cooked him his favorite meals, played his favourite songs to him, and yet he wouldn’t respond, wouldn’t move. I couldn’t forget the intense hatred I felt towards Sauli for leaving my boy this way as I spent day after day trying to coax life back into his haunted, empty eyes. Couldn’t forget how I’d found the bed cold and empty when I’d went to check on him at night like I did every night, how my blood went cold with fear. Couldn’t forget the police sirens along this very beach as I sat shivering in the sand, coastguards and lifeboats combing the beach for him. Couldn’t forget the agony when a policewomen took my hand and told me they had found him, floating along the water meters away from the beach. I couldn’t forget how I had had to identify his body, now frozen and cold and stiff, couldn’t forget the numbing pain and denial that shook my body as I finally collapsed and wept. Couldn’t erase the memory of the parcel I’d received days later. Couldn’t forget how my hands shook as I opened it, only to see his favourite ring, the one I’d given him all those years ago, my very first present to him. The note attached read: I’m so sorry. You’re the best friend I ever had, I love you. Couldn't forget how pain lanced through my body, ripping through my chest like a rusty chainsaw, how I’d sagged down the wall and slid onto the floor, the words cutting painfully through me, a reminder of how no matter how well I tried to hide it, I could never eradicate the love I had for my best friend, Couldn't forget how through it all, he never loved me back, and I couldn’t forget how I had lost him, lost him to his love for another man. I couldn’t forget how I’d screamed and yelled into the wind, aching for the chance to go back, to turn back the time and to have checked on him earlier and stayed with him, to have had the chance to hear his footsteps as he left me for the last time.

The old granny’s tiny and withered hand petted the back of mine. 

“He’s in peace now, he wouldn’t want you to be sad. It’s time for you to find your own peace,” she stated serenely, grasping my hand in hers and squeezing. She smiled gently, warmly, and hobbled away slowly.

Deep in thought, I watched her retreating back. She was right. Maybe it was time to let my love for Adam loose, to find peace with myself. I thought back to the memories of the happy times we had had together, right on this beach. Adam had always known me better than I knew myself, and the first Christmas with him was the best I’ve ever had.  
_____________________________________________________________

We’d been here, on this very beach. I had saved up and pooled my money on a beautiful and expensive claw ring, something I’d seen Adam admiring as we walked past the store. He was carrying a huge box as we walked, and curiosity about what it was was overwhelming. We’d settled down on our usual rock, wide and big with enough space for both of us so we wouldn’t have to sit on the sand. 

We exchanged our gifts. It was heavy and huge, and I nearly shook it, trying to figure out what it was, but he yelled and grabbed my hand. “Don't break it!” he yelled, shooting me a stern look.

“Okay, okay,” I laughed and rolled my eyes.

“Open mine first!” he said.

I immediately tore open the wrapping paper, eager and curious to see what we had gotten. There was a roughly shaped cardboard box, obviously crudely fashioned by Adam himself. I lifted the lid, only to gasp in surprise. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Inside was a guitar case, one I’d recognized from admiring it in the window of the store too many times as I walked by. I lifted the clasps and gently pulled the lid open, and inside it was a shining white Gibson electric guitar. I ran my hand along the fret, marveling at my new baby, my first ever guitar. My heart swelled with gratitude for my best friend. I pulled her out eagerly, running my fingers along her smooth, beautiful wood.

“Teach me how to play something,” Adam insisted, watching me excitedly.

I attempted to show him how to play a few chords, but after not quite being able to position his fingers properly, he groaned and handed the guitar back to me. 

“It’s just boring!” He protested, catching my teasing gaze. I laughed and shoved him. “Of course. And you haven’t opened my present.”

He fetched it from where he had left the box on the edge of the rock. Pulling out the ring, he gasped excitedly. “This will go perfectly with that sleeveless leather jacket I just bought! Thanks, Tommy.” He threw his arms around me, the force of his hug knocking both of us off the rock.

“Hey you fucker! Watch the guitar!” I shoved him off me, screambling up to ensure that the guitar was still unharmed on the rock. Behind me, Adam scoffed and grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me back down beside him on the sand.

“Oh, you're so fucked,” I chucked, climbing onto him and pulling him against me in a headlock.  
_____________________________________________________________

Twisting the ring I now wear all the time around my finger, I smile nostalgically, remembering the simple joy of those days. It hurts that he is gone, but I should not allow the pain to take over my life and cloud my heart. 

I loved him, and I always will, but he was my best friend, and that would have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this story wasn't really very good, I read through it and certain parts just seemed lacking, but I have major exams coming up and I didn't really have the time or feel like going through it in detail to see how I could fix it and since I felt like posting something I decided to leave it be.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this story! :)
> 
> Any comments/constructive criticism/feedback/etc is welcome and highly appreciated :)
> 
> You can check out my other stories on my page, and I will give a big virtual hug to anyone who kudos this story! :) Find me on twitter at @soshadylately.
> 
> Love you all! :***


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